


Slip, Slip, Slip

by kinkyhux



Category: Star Wars Episode VII: The Force Awakens (2015)
Genre: Action/Adventure, Before During After Canon, Canon Universe, Emperor Hux, Explicit Sexual Content, Light Angst, Light Dom/sub, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-05-31
Updated: 2016-05-31
Packaged: 2018-07-11 10:43:05
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,059
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7045180
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/kinkyhux/pseuds/kinkyhux
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>After the collapse of Starkiller Base, they have to get their feet on the ground.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Slip, Slip, Slip

**Author's Note:**

> UPDATE: I fixed what should be in italics, fixed my artist's picture, and made it look a little nicer, I hope.
> 
> Title from the Eliot Moss song of the same name.
> 
> I'm so glad to have been a part of this! There were some rough patches, and I'm not 100% confident, but I hope someone enjoys it, at least.
> 
> Huge thanks to my artist (who did an amazing job and made a lovely piece!!) ((it's so great guys, like. how does one even art??? honestly...)) and the mods for helping me out & being supportive and encouraging and super nice!

General Hux takes a long drag of his cigarette while he watches Kylo undress. He blows smoke into a thin cloud, watches it dissipate. Kylo’s eyes linger on Hux’s lips, just for a moment, while they wrap around the bud and suck. Hux’s cheeks hollow. Kylo notices.

Kylo kneels before him, skin bare and taut. Hux’s eyes take their time in assessing him. A portion of Kylo’s hair falls in his face slowly. He looks up at the General through eyelashes thick and long. Hux pushes the hair behind his ear, hand resting on the back of his neck after, to steady the kiss that follows. It hurts to be so close to each other.

Hux pulls away, licking his smirking lips. “What do you want?”

Kylo’s eyes go wide, dark and surprised, and then he recovers. “Whatever you need.”

Hux’s smile falters, and he sees the fear in Kylo’s eyes, the anticipation, the lust. “Don’t play with me.”

“Isn’t this a game?”

“One that I’m set to win. Hands behind your back,” Hux orders, walking away into his office attachment. Kylo hears a cupboard door open, rifling through drawers. When Hux returns, he stays out of Kylo’s view, walking behind him and resting a thick cord around his wrists.

“Don’t be careful,” Kylo whispers.

“Don’t tell me what to do,” Hux bites back, suddenly pulling a knot incredibly tight. Kylo shouts, and then again when a lash comes down on his shoulder, hard.

“Shut up!”

Hux holds two things over Kylo Ren’s head: Authority, and Kylo’s weakness for basic human pleasures. Kylo is starved for touch, for feeling that isn’t rage but not unlike it. Hux has every drop of the Knight of Ren and he’ll keep taking more until he runs out.

Kylo begs to come, degrades himself with pleas of temporary gratification. And when it ends, he will look elsewhere for that same feeling.

Hux knows he won’t find it, and soaks up Kylo’s cries.

 

+++

 

Hux scans the room for his belt and struggles with snapping it in place. Kylo puts his hands over Hux's and helps guide the latches together.

Kylo’s hair falls in his face again, but Hux doesn’t reach out. It would be unwelcome. "You're so thin,” he whispers, voice low and rough around the edges. He isn’t used to speaking softly, hasn’t hummed a tender word into soft skin. Hux shivers. “Your strength is inexplicable."

"All the time you spend worrying about strength,” Hux snaps. “has left the true source festering and inept." He shoves his hands away.

Kylo attempts to reply, but the general's glare is standoffish at best, and soon his back is turned and the door closed.

 

+++

 

The ship is silent, most of the time. People aren't allowed to talk while on duty, and there are only a handful of people allowed to be off duty each half-cycle. They usually spend it sleeping.

The hum of engines and machines is hardly anything at all. The vacuum of space is daunting. General Hux stares out into the darkness with glossy eyes.

He knows Kylo Ren is near; can feel his ridiculous Force buzzing in the base of his neck, like footsteps that he can recognize. It isn't an unwelcome feeling, though when it first started happening (around the time he was assigned to his position as General, not even a few weeks after meeting Kylo) it drove him mad.

Back then, he didn’t have a clue. His dreams were big and maybe he smiled a little more. Hux was top of his everything, won awards, was promoted to superior officer at nineteen. His father was dying. Hux didn’t care. How poignant a memory, standing in an officer’s meeting and staring coldly at the glittering wall behind some utter fool who’s telling them of Brendol Hux’s all-too-soon retreat into the afterlife. He remembers shaking hands with so many people, so many insincere touches trying to express their sorrows.

When Kylo Ren arrived, it was like Hux finally had a reason to be the cold hearted bastard he always shied away from, for fear— fear, bah!

That was when he knew he hated the “Knight of Ren,” however. Now he isn't sure what to think.

 

+++

 

When Kylo is gone training on some different—but still icky and cold—planet; the crew, the ship, Hux's messaging system— they all seem quieter than ever.

It's not the kind of quiet that allows one to sleep, or think. It's heavy. It fills Hux to the brim with unease.

The Stormtroopers make it a point to stay out of his way, turn their heads when he enters Kylo's quarters, frown ever-present. Captain Phasma knocks on the door to Hux's office, light and slow, late one night. Hux regrets that it doesn't hurt—he hasn’t touched any alcohol since Kylo left—though in a way it does. The door slides open and she steps in hesitantly, arms behind her back.

"General, they want to know if you plan on joining the--"

"No."

"No?" The mask distorts her voice, but not enough. Hux looks up with narrowed eyes. "Sir, it's just that I thought it might be--"

"Might be what? Nice? That Kylo Ren might appreciate my presence? He has the rest of his life to bother me, I won't go out of my way..."

"The admirals will wonder where you are."

"Let them wonder. I'm doing my job. I don't have time to greet children, I have a weapon to build, planets to conquer. I'm a busy man. Now stop arguing with me and when he gets on board, tell him to come straight to my office."

Phasma frowns and hopes the General knows.

 

+++

 

"They tell me you've been acting strangely," Kylo says, immediately after stepping into Hux's office.

Hux stands, frowning. "Have they?"

Kylo nods.

"And who are _they_?" Hux asks, reaching up to take the helmet off of Kylo, who lets him.

"Everyone."

Hux lets out a bark of laughter, but quickly stops when he sees the scar on the Sith Lord's neck. He runs his fingers slowly over the thick line, feeling Kylo's chest rise quickly. It's healed, but the scar tells him it couldn't have been done correctly. Maybe by the Force. Everything done by the Force seems to be a mistake of some kind, or maybe that’s just Kylo Ren.

"That's not going away," Hux whispers, unsure.

Kylo closes his eyes as Hux's hand travels slowly to the base of his neck, into his dark hair, scratching lightly. Without warning, the room is abuzz with weird energy. Hux wants a drink.

“It will. It’s new.” Kylo pulls Hux to his chest with a growl, kisses the General fiercely. Hux takes the power from it almost immediately, forcing it slow and gentle, out of spite.

 

+++

 

Hux considers it a quiz, the escaping and the traitor. And the failures, they’re tests. And Kylo disappearing for a few hours every day— that’s his completion exam for the Order.

He may never know his scores.

He looks into the glitching hologram of Snoke and feels pathetic. Used up. He isn’t seeing Snoke, he’s seeing pixels and energy. Snoke isn’t seeing his General, he’s seeing a pawn.

Hux understands this, has since the Academy, and yet—

Of course Kylo Ren is in danger. Of course Hux has orders to save him. Of course he doesn’t even let Snoke finish before he’s yelling for someone to get out of some shitty escort shuttle so he can take control.

 

+++

 

It takes approximately twenty-four minutes for the base to collapse.

Kylo is screaming bloody murder, not in pain as much as rage, while Hux attempts to fly them far into the Unknown Regions. Other ships follow, troop carriers and cargo shuttles, some of the bigger ones lagging behind and getting swept up in the dust of the crumbling Starkiller.

“Go back!” Kylo snarls from the floor of the cramped escort shuttle, clinging desperately to the seat he was sitting in a few minutes before he decided he could stand merely because he wanted to. He bleeds profusely, hands clutching at his abdomen like his guts might spill out. That he’s still conscious is a miracle.

_The Force sustains me._

“Fuck off!” Hux responds intelligently, maneuvering much more viciously than necessary, sending Kylo flying into the wall across from him. The top level of the shuttle is cramped and cold, but Hux sweats profusely into his uniform as he makes his way as quickly from the planet as possible.

Hux ignores him after that, taking his eyes away from the controls to look in the rear projector, the remnants of Starkiller Base floating brilliantly cruel through space, like an asteroid belt, but shinier. More heartbreaking. Hux observes briefly that his heart has never been broken. Not until now.

The shuttle slows once it’s too far off the path to be in any immediate danger. The ship’s loud revving simmers to an only marginally less aggravating thrum, pulsing. But Hux can hear their heaving breaths and the beating of his heart.

Kylo Ren laughs, humourless, as he scrambles to stand.

Hux can’t move, finds it hard to breathe properly, and maybe he’s hyperventilating, but he hasn’t had anxiety problems since the Academy, so it doesn’t—

“You’re crying,” Kylo says, falling heavily into the co-pilot chair.

Hux opens his mouth, but closes it the second it hits him, trying to hold back his sobs.

“You’re _pathetic_ , General.”

Hux covers his face, biting into the palm of his glove, knowing there will be teeth marks.

“How could you break down now? What a useless waste of three years— Letting your machine fall to something as weak and lamentable as _Rebel scum!_ ”

It takes approximately twenty-four seconds for General Hux to collapse.

His fist meets Kylo’s jaw with an audible _pop!_ and Kylo slumps in the chair, smiling devilishly, crookedly.

Hux, eyes wild, clambers on top of him and pounds his knuckles into the soft flesh of his face repeatedly, screaming passionate and rough, unsure if he’s speaking or saying nothing at all.

His hand aches intensely, but he lets himself drink it up and feed the pain right back into the man beneath him. There’s so much blood, soaking into Hux’s uniform and gleaning on Kylo’s face. There’s so many lights and sounds, Hux can hardly see, has trouble gasping in air through his panic attack. Kylo lies beneath him like he’s been asking for this, like it’s a gift. Hux wants to make some useless remark— apologize for not putting a bow on his fist, for not letting him die on the base, in the center of the mess he created because of his foolishness.

Kylo laughs, again, like he’s heard all of this. The next punch Hux’s hand slides across Kylo’s slick skin, knocking him off balance. His shoulder falls into the other’s, elbow digging into that gaping wound at his side, and now Kylo is screaming again, and it hurts Hux, too.

Kylo pushes a shocked General from his lap and into the control panels, which dig sharply through his uniform and into his flesh. All Hux can do is whimper and hazily try to remove himself from the weight of the force holding him in place by his neck and chest.

“Is this what you want?” Kylo asks, voice no louder than a whisper, busted lip preventing any rough movement from his mouth without pain. “Killing me won’t give you back your life’s work.”

Hux, coughing and wheezing and seeing the edges of his vision turn shadowed, falls to the floor at Kylo’s feet and throws up, hacking and heaving, once he’s allowed to breathe again.

Kylo nudges his chin upward with his boot, and Hux smiles up at him briefly, blood and spit stringing from his mouth and clothes.

“You’re disgusting,” Kylo spits, kicking his head away.

“I wouldn’t be so quick to assume power,” Hux threatens hoarsely, suddenly retching before catching himself. “You have no idea what you’re dealing with. You’re a fucking child and—” Hux takes a deep breath and coughs thickly, once. “Dare I say, an absolute idiot.”

“How can you fall so quickly but still stand proud?” Kylo mumbles, mostly to himself.

Hux sits on his heels, still red in the face and shaking.

“I haven’t fallen.”

 

+++

 

Hux stares into the dark of space and feels empty. His entire purpose has just been destroyed before him, and he feels nothing. The ship has a pre-plotted course for a neutral system nearby, ready to be set at any moment. They will make a plan once they can escape the Unknowns and arrive somewhere with fuel and food and beds.

Kylo is shaking in Hux’s arms. All of his grace and poise is stripped to a ratted t-shirt and a pair of blood-stained slacks. His wound is infected, Hux can smell it. Or maybe that’s just their bodies, unclean and rotting, possibly. He definitely feels like he’s rotting.

“The ship is losing power. By the time we get out of the Unknowns, it could stall. I have to shut everything down except Auto,” Hux says softly. Kylo puts a hand in Hux’s hair, but can’t bring himself to move it. Being near him feels too intimate, but he needs it. “That means we’re going blind. We could be hit at any time, and we won’t know.” This doesn’t stir Kylo from his position, from his tears.

He feels his own face become wet and curses softly. The crying is getting ridiculous. He expects it from Kylo, marginally, with him being such a child about everything. But Hux is hardened. He’s seen the deaths of entire systems, ordered them, killed with his teeth and his bare hands remorselessly. Tears are nothing to rely on.

The stars are no help, but he looks on. He’s losing his grip. The knowledge that Kylo fell a long time ago amuses him somewhat. Not enough.

Hux struggles with deciding if it’s really worth following his orders, or if he should listen to his gut and his heart. Kylo’s quivering heat in his lap is gone, and the puffy, tear-stained face meets his own. The scar on his face doesn’t help. The tears probably burn it. Kylo is in so much pain, is letting Hux feel it with him.

“It’s gone,” Kylo sobs, pressing his face into Hux’s shoulder.

“What? The planet? I know that’s gone, we—”

“The Force. It’s gone.”

Hux doesn’t feel anything. He’s falling.

 

+++

 

Hux rests his hand on Kylo’s shoulder while he bandages his face. He can feel the heat of the body beneath him, radiating, like smoke—thick in the air, pungent. Hux thinks he might have a fever, from infection. They should have found a way to clean themselves before running off into the Unknown Regions like this.

Hux bandaging Kylo by _[Ducky377](http://ducky377.tumblr.com/) (T.blr),[Ducky377](http://ducky377.deviantart.com/) (D.art)_

 

 

We have no choice, Hux thinks. He lost track of where they are. He only knows that he sees planets in the magnification monitor, smells blood whenever Kylo moves like dust being disturbed.

Sitting up proves a challenge for the Knight, one that is conquered swiftly with only a few small sounds.

Hux looks at Kylo’s expressionless face and, not for the first time, is scared.

 

+++

 

Hux doesn’t know much about Kylo Ren at all. He was assigned at hardly-a-man and, as far as anyone can tell, never grew into one. Not really. Hux thinks about his first meeting with the Knight of Ren—about his quick, stomping steps and short, formal replies. Hux hated him from the second he arrived—pretentious from top to toe and his relationship with Snoke notwithstanding his severe lack of disrespect for authority and his elders.

What twenty year-old is going to listen to anyone but his Master?

But every piece of him has a story behind it, and Hux is nevertheless intrigued. He smells like stale cigarette smoke and cologne. His voice is deep and, when it cracks, it’s in a soft way. He speaks like he’d never had a real conversation, had only read plays or poems until adulthood. Kylo is perfectly breakable and Hux spent a good year or two trying to figure out how.

It took him a while before he realized that he was only breaking himself. He knows better now. He won’t be broken by a broken thing itself like Kylo Ren.

Hux thinks that if he had never seen an inch of Kylo’s skin—hadn’t forced his helmet off in a fit of rage—none of this would have happened. He wouldn’t be sitting in a pilot’s chair soaked in blood, lazily fighting his way through what has to be the shrapnel of a ship. He doesn’t recognize any of the color combinations on some of the fragments, so they must belong to these Unknowns.

“Which would make sense because we’re about two cycles into it now,” Hux tells Kylo, who is bandaging his own shoulder up next to him.

“Do you ever shut up?” Kylo mumbles.

“You’re lucky I didn’t kill you.” He regrets saying that, and Kylo knows, even without the force.

“Do you know where you’re going?” Kylo asks.

Hux tightens his grip on the directional pad. “Of course not. We need to be as untraceable as possible. Once the republic thinks we died with the planet, we can return you to Snoke and await our orders.”

“I thought you didn’t want to go back.”

Hux looks at him sidelong. “Not to Jakku.”

“Snoke can’t do anything for you.”

“No. He can’t. But I was told to retrieve you, alive, and bring you to him, alive.”

Kylo laughs humorlessly. “And what if you don’t?”

“It’ll be my neck! And he’ll probably cradle you and tell you how great you are, that you just need more training.”

“No, you misunderstand.” Kylo grins, the bandage across his face wrinkling. Wound or not, Hux would be terrified. The “What if we don’t go back?” hangs in the air.

“I suppose not a whole lot.” Hux wants to say more, but Kylo stands, climbs into Hux’s lap like a child and draws their foreheads together. “What the hell—”

“You could be Emperor,” Kylo whispers, conspiratorial. “We have so much power. Let’s use it.”

“Without the Force—”

“I don’t need the Force to be strong. You have shown me that.”

When Kylo kisses him, it feels real. It feels like soft lips pressing against his own, hands pressing into his scalp and his sides. Kylo smells like sweat and blood and his breath is terrible. He imagines he is the same. He imagines that it is going to be okay.

He doesn’t expect Kylo to start divesting himself of his clothes right on his lap, but each item falls softly to the floor like black and bloodied snow, and Kylo’s dark eyes burn into his hungrily.

Kylo Ren begs to be fucked in that smooth, low intonation, and then Hux has him desperate, shaking and writhing on top of him, body pulsating with want. His voice goes high in a whimper, coarse in a shout.

Hux feels the other’s release, watches the come slide down his cock and drip onto their stomachs, all in a daze, breathing heavily as Kylo’s burning thighs keep moving, just for him.

He thinks that he might be falling, now, too, and he doesn’t have the focus or energy to mind.

 

+++

 

“What do you plan on doing once we find him?”

Hux stares blankly into the distance. He has multiple plans. Their success varies, most of them dependant on wheres, whens, and whos he couldn’t begin to predict. Kylo sits restlessly next to him.

“We’ll find out.”

“You don’t know?” Kylo shouts, rage coloring his neck and ears.

“Of course I know! It’s just that what I know may change!”

Kylo joins Hux in staring pensively out of the monitor, brooding. Hux’s eyes shift to Kylo, his profile outlined in the dim lights. They can’t afford to lose power, so a few hours before Hux shut off or diminished any unimportant faculties to conserve energy: the heating, the lights, the ‘fresher and the toilet and the sink, the noise filtration from the engines, and the weaponry. All access to the lower deck of the escort shuttle is cut off, all power gone completely there. Hux shivers profusely, teeth chattering against his will.

Kylo looks so weak and small without his uniform. His arms are pale and freckled, muscled enough to make him strong, and the rest of him matches. He probably looks a lot like his father did when he was his age: Strong; low, toe-curling voice; big nose; soft brown eyes. A pair of technician’s overalls hang loosely around his hips, his top half bare and exposed save for the bandages. His robes are piled up with most of Hux’s uniform in a compartment under a passenger seat. Hux is stuck with his own, too-big tech overalls and his own undershirt, a grey button-down that is wrinkled beyond repair.

Kylo’s hair—shiny, layered ebony—lay softly on his shoulders, ratted and oily. Hux wants to run his fingers through it and brush out the knots. He’s surprised that he hasn’t yet.

One cycle away from their destination, a nameless planet that’s mostly green and blue except a few spots of grey where cities and suburbs lay, the tension rests heavily between them. Two systems away from Jakku. Fourteen cycles, at most, if they get enough fuel.

But they’re not going to Jakku. No one will be there. Kylo is an idiot.

“Will you help me?” Hux asks, feeling his eyes droop from lack of sleep.

“I...can’t fly this.”

Hux knows he’s lying, somehow. “No, with— Snoke.” Kylo’s silence puts him on edge. “I don’t think I can do it alone.”

“I told you what I can do.”

“Running away isn’t doing something, Ren. He’ll find us. He’ll find us as soon as he sees a open spot in your barriers or whatever you do. He owns you.”

“You don’t know a damn thing about Snoke, or me!” Kylo erupts, sending his fist into the control panel. He withdraws into his mind, clears the space around him to meditate. He can’t get Hux’s presence away from him, can’t pull away from it.

Hux is sick of his eagerness to fight. Truly sick, stomach aching, at the sight of his red ears and quivering frowns. But he’ll need it soon. He’ll need his own anger, too.

 

+++

 

Kylo waits for Hux to pay for food, standing outside the shop with his arms crossed.

“One hundred credits!” Hux says as he meets Kylo outside, three bags on one hand. The streets are busy with the natives, speaking a language neither could begin to understand. “At least they use credits. I thought that was the Known Region's thing.”

“‘Known Region’ isn’t a thing,” Kylo says.

“Shut up.”

In the main city, the buildings are stacked like Galena, jagged and glittering in the sunlight. It would be a desolate wasteland if it wasn’t an eco-friendly planet. Everything is natural. There are no factories, no manufactured products. What is made can be thrown on the ground and it will be restored to the planet’s soil. The cost of living, enormous, but the benefits are surely worth the prices.

It’s weird to see so much plant life in a big, bustling city, but it’s beautiful, too.

Hux wonders how long it’ll last, and laughs.

“You haven’t shaved.” Kylo points to his chin briefly as they walk.

Hux snorts. “Neither have you.”

“I don’t have facial hair.”

“That’s why it’s funny.”

Kylo frowns, and Hux is glad.

 

+++

 

“We need a new ship,” Hux says as he shivers. The escort shuttle is breaking down.

“Where do you go to buy ships?”

“I have no idea.”

“Helpful,” Kylo mutters, feeling helpless. “Although, you usually just...tell other people to go find ships for you, so I shouldn’t expect that sort of plebeian knowledge from you.”

“Shut up.” Hux ventures to be offended, but he knows what Kylo is doing— Trying to make it feel normal. That he’s trying at all is shocking. That’s he’s trying for Hux is, well…

“Do you think it will come back?” Kylo whispers.

Hux has no idea. The Force? He couldn’t care less. It’s just a bunch of weirdo telekinetic arseholes who think they’re better than everyone just because they can read minds and feel things with their weirdo magic waves. Kylo is just as much a burden with as without.

That’s not entirely true, Hux thinks, then: Shut up.

“I don’t know. Sometimes things don’t come back. They just leave. And there’s nothing anyone can do.” Hux leaves his mouth open slightly after that. He didn’t really intend to say that, certainly not with as much malice as he did. Kylo must be laughing at him. He doesn’t turn to find out.

 

+++

 

Being on the Finalizer again is incomparable to any sensation imaginable. The uniform, the staff, the cleanliness-- it all fills him with pure, unadulterated joy.

When Hux’s half-open, sleep-deprived eyes saw a shining, black monstrosity in the distance wo hours ago, it didn’t feel real, but now it’s beneath and above and all around. Kylo disappeared, and he feels relieved. Spending as long as he did with Kylo was overwhelming, to say the least.

Thannisson is glued to his side as soon as he steps on the bridge. He feels powerful, energy building in his stomach.

“General Hux,” he says. He’s the youngest officer on the ship, chock-full of arrogance and baby faced. Hux used to hate him, just a little, but he feels nothing now. “It is good to have you back.”

“Is it?” Hux asks, the tug of a smile at his lips. “The round of applause upon my arrival was a bit ambiguous.”

Thannisson seems concerned with his joke, but doesn’t say anything. He smiles politely at his General and hands him a data pad. “Welcome home, then, sir.”

Something in Hux’s chest bursts. Some bubble pops. _Home? This isn’t home._ He feels sick, like he had when Kylo’s infected wound started bleeding again, and Hux had to curse his throat raw to get the idiot to do something about it. Or when Snoke looked into his eyes and said, “Congratulations, General.” Dark clouds, impending doom, _sick_.

“Hux?” It’s Phasma. She’s wearing her temp command uniform. She was going to change at the end of her shift. Hux doesn’t know if he wants her to change.

Most eyes on the bridge are focused on him. He feels hot and constricted. What was that joy he felt? He doesn’t see a thing that could have caused it. He’s in the same grimy spaceship with the same distasteful staff and the same boring, shiny floors. He isn’t done yet. He hasn’t won anything. He’s back to picking up the pieces of his failure.

 

+++

 

_Hux looks into the eyes of his father and tells him, “No,” with as much defiance as he can in his small, terrified voice. But those cold eyes look right back and Hux cowers._

Hux’s head aches when he wakes up. The room is pitch dark, and Kylo Ren breathes short and light in his sleep beside him.

“Ren?” he whispers, reaching out hesitantly. He meets Kylo’s chest and keeps his hand there, feeling the rise and fall.

“Yes?” His voice is sleep rough.

“You got it back, didn’t you?”

“Yes.”

“Lights 30 percent.” It’s too bright too suddenly, but Hux doesn’t care. He sits up and watches Kylo stretch out and run his hands through his hair.

Hux reaches out his own hand and runs it through Kylo’s hair himself.

“It won’t be easy, killing him,” Hux says. Snoke is still waiting for them. Hux wonders if he knows what they plan on doing. Probably. That makes this a suicide mission.

“I have the Force, and I have you,” Kylo says, leaning into Hux’s hand. “It will be easy.”

“I admire your optimism.”

“It’s good, you should try it sometime.”

Hux laughs, and it’s a strange sound, but Kylo must like it because he turns and crawls to Hux and kisses him breathless.

 

+++

 

Kylo offers him a blaster and a smile. It doesn’t fit on his face, but it stays. A wide, feral thing. Hux wants to kiss him, but Kylo puts his helmet on before he thinks to, and then they’re on the planet.

“Physically, he is extremely weak,” he says, and Hux is half listening as the stealth bike hurdles on through a field of dead grass that seems endless. “But his abilities with the force make him near invincible.”

“So I’m your cheerleader here or…?”

“No, you will be the one who kills him.”

Hux pulls away from Kylo’s back with a gasp. “What? How?”

“Doubting your skills?”

Hux hits his back with his hand. “Seriously, what?”

“I have foreseen it.”

Kylo had foreseen many things. Whether or not he was telling the truth about it is beyond Hux, but he never appeared to be lying. If anything, he was being lied to about the future, for how much he believed it. Hux wants to laugh, but his energy slowly drains from him. It’s like this knowledge has pulled a plug. He wants to run away, now, despite how idiotic that would be. They can live on some remote nowhere and never deal with this again.

“You will kill him. Can’t you feel it--the power just out of reach. This is your last step”

He doesn’t say it, but Hux can’t feel a damned thing.

 

+++

 

Hux’s cane rests awkwardly at his side. Kylo is staring at him through his stupid mask, perched like some ten credit whore at his shoes. His quarters are cold. Kylo hates it. Hux drags his cigarette as long as he can and stares back.

“What do you want?”

“ _You_.” He sounds ridiculous through the voice distortion.

“Take it off, then.”

Kylo doesn’t stop at his helmet. Hux doesn’t mind, allows Kylo to sit on his lap, naked and hot to the touch, and breathe into his neck. They’re both shaking with a new sort of want. Kylo pulls away to look at him expectantly, and Hux sighs in resignation. He takes off the golden crown, and he doesn’t stop there.

**Author's Note:**

> Thank you for reading!!! Say nice things about the fic/art(!!!) in the comments or on our tumblrs! 
> 
> This was a blast and I can't wait to do more!!!
> 
> You can find me as atiredgay on tumblr.
> 
> You can find Ducky as ducky377 on tumblr & deviantart.


End file.
